seeing the evidence of her in my moms hands

Last weekend was spent in Soda Springs Idaho visiting grandma Dixie.

Merlin my grandpa passed away coming up on two years ago and we try to make the trip up to see her now as often as possible. No real reason for going except family, you know? That has become another one of those sacred words to me within the past year.

Dixie has always been this fire cracker of a woman. And until my grandpa died, that part of her was always there, overwhelming anything else attempting to shine through. But since he has gone something has changed in her. She's become softer. More fragile. And maybe that's because she's realized that time left here is shorter than when she last checked. Or that loosing a spouse really does take a toll on you physically as well as emotionally. But since Merlin left us, she's become a more gentle person. It's been an interesting thing to watch over the past two years. Like I said in my last post, time and experience can change people. Even after 80 years of being a certain way, change still occurs. 

Holy.

Because the evidence of her is in my mom's hands. And my aunt's hands. And I am happy knowing that once she has finished here and I have to wait awhile to see her again, I get to see parts of her throughout my mom, my aunt, my sisters, and even myself. Dixie is apart of us all.